


Early Morning Coffee

by Angrydollface



Series: Glimpses of a Life Well Spent [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers with benefits, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Insecurity, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, Rope Bondage, coffee denial, slight D/s undertones, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 12:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18811015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angrydollface/pseuds/Angrydollface
Summary: Bucky decides to wake Clint up early with a surprise, taking advantage of Clint not really being awake.





	Early Morning Coffee

Bucky lays awake, listening to Clint’s steady breaths beside him as daylight lazily edges itself into the darkness of the sky.  He’s been awake for a while, body buzzing with anticipation and want as he works out the final details of how he’s going to enact his plan. He’s fully aware of Clint’s inability to wake up before daylight unless he really has to and is going to use it to his full advantage. Clint shifts in his sleep, rolling over onto his side facing Bucky and reaches out. He brushes his hand across Bucky’s arm while humming happily before settling more securely under his blankets again. Bucky can’t help but smile at the small affectionate gesture, watching as Clint falls into a deeper sleep before deciding to quietly slip out of bed.  

 

\--x--

 

Bucky stands back, cataloging everything to make sure that it is all set up the way he wants it one last time before he wanders back to the bedroom.  He finds Clint curled up in the middle of the bed and wrapped completely in all the available blankets like the lack of Bucky has put the room into nuclear winter.

 

Bucky settles himself on the bed, running his hand softly up and down Clint’s hip to get him to stir.  Bucky doesn’t want Clint fully awake so he’s not going to rush this part but he does want him awake enough to walk on his own. The lump under the blanket moves and Clint pokes out from under the blankets, blinking blearily up at Bucky.

 

“Huh?” Clint’s voice comes out gruff and sleep filled. There is barely any light in the bedroom but it’s obvious by Bucky’s slow motions that this isn’t an emergency. Clint’s ability to read Bucky so well even though he’s not really awake makes something warm swell in Bucky’s chest, bringing back the memory of hot days stretched out on the fire escape like a cat soaking up the sun.

 

Bucky motions with his hands that he wants Clint to stand up, moving himself off the bed as he does. Clint continues to blink at him until his brain catches up, mumbling nonsensically as he digs himself out from the blanket pile on top of him.  

 

Bucky catches Clint as he trips over his feet, hauling him upright and holding him steady as he sways. Nothing in Clint’s face indicate that he’s fully awake - his eyes are hardly open and he’s leaning towards Bucky like he might fall asleep right there while standing.  Bucky gentle tugs at Clint’s hand, guiding him sluggishly out into the open space between the living room and the kitchen, and onto the wooden chair that Bucky has placed there.

 

Bucky tilts Clint’s head up with his finger, brushing his thumbs softly over his cheeks and his eyes flutter open, slightly more awake but still at ease as Bucky smiles down at him.  Bucky tugs softly on Clint’s ear lobe in a voiceless question, asking if Clint would like his ears and Clint nods his head faintly, eyes still firmly on Bucky’s face. Bucky leans down placing a soft kiss on Clint’s lips before moving to grab his hearing aids from the kitchen counter and returning back to him.  Clint’s still half asleep and not really paying attention to the rest of the room yet, exactly the way Bucky wants it.

 

“Morning Sugar,” Bucky drawls, tracing a finger down Clint’s jaw to his neck. “I have a surprise for you,” Bucky’s tongue darts out wetting his bottom lip and Clint’s eyes track the movement.

 

“Mornin’ Buck,”  Clint responds, cheeks starting to flush pink.

 

Bucky smiles down at Clint, “Now before I get to the surprise, do you need anything?”

 

“Coffee,” pops out of Clint’s mouth without hesitation.

 

Bucky chuckles, quirking at an eyebrow at Clint. “How about you go the washroom and I’ll get the coffee going?  You come right back and sit nice and pretty for me, ok?”

 

Clint nods, the pink in his cheeks quickly turning red as he gets up from the chair and shuffles to the washroom.  Bucky smiles to himself - an added benefit to Clint not being fully awake is that his guard is down and it’s so easy to make him blush.  

 

Bucky makes his way to the kitchen and starts the coffee brewing, pretending to clean up in the kitchen while he waits for Clint to return to the chair in the middle of the floor.  It feels like forever passes before the bathroom door opens and Clint is wandering towards the kitchen, bare feet padding softly against the wood flooring.

 

“What did I say, Clint?” Bucky steps into Clint’s path, stopping Clint from going any farther.

 

“Coffee, you said you were making coffee.” Confusion washes through Clint’s face.

 

“Yes, I said I was making coffee, but you were going to go sit pretty and wait for it like a good boy,” Bucky takes Clint’s elbow and starts walking him towards the chair. “I’ll make sure you get coffee sweetheart, don’t you worry.”

 

“Bucky, I can get my own coff-”

 

“Sit _down_ , Barton,” Bucky growls, letting go of Clint’s elbow. Clint’s mouth snaps shut with an audible click as he follows Bucky’s orders.  Bucky levels his gaze at Clint. “I want you to get comfortable, sitting _properly_ , palms against the top of the armrests,” Bucky instructs, trying to be as clear as possible. Clint settles himself on the chair, looking up at Bucky to confirm he’s done everything as requested. Bucky slowly walks around the chair making sure how he visualized things in his head was correct and then nods at Clint.

 

“Close your eyes and sit still,” Bucky directs, moving towards the kitchen to grab the duffle bag he placed there and coming back to set it down beside the chair. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Honestly? Confused. This chair isn’t the surprise, is it, Buck?” Clint opens an eye peeking at Bucky while trying to combat his building nerves.

 

Bucky sighs quietly, he was hoping to avoid this whole Clint being a brat thing but obviously it’s a character flaw. (Bucky will never admit that he secretly loves it.)

 

Bucky gets to work, ignoring the fact that Clint is spying on him. Crouching down and unzipping the duffle bag beside the chair, he pulls out two smaller coils of black rope and sets them down on the floor. Clint’s breath hitches slightly once he sees what Bucky is pulling out of the bag but he manages to stay still. Bucky looks up at him, giving him a sly smile.

 

“I know this is something we have discussed before, but once you’re awake you’d fidget yourself right out of these before I got them on ya,” Bucky states plainly, watching Clint’s reaction flush across his cheeks and down his jawline but he currently seems lost for words. “I’ve put a lot of thought into this, usual rules apply. You tell me red for stop and we’ll get you out of these ropes immediately, yellow and we’ll assess what you need and green for all clear, you understand Clint?”

 

Clint’s eyes flit from the ropes to Bucky’s face and he nods, making an effort to swallow before he remembers he needs to use his words. “Yes Bucky,” his voice rasps out, relaying just how interested in this process he is.

 

Bucky nods to himself before he takes out a couple longer coils of purple rope from the duffle bag, laying them next to the black rope. “I’ve been doing some reading, and have come up with a lot of ideas but I think we’ll keep it simple this time. I’m going to tie you to the chair, arms and torso only. Does that sound good?” Bucky looks up again, finding Clint biting his bottom lip as he watches Bucky’s movements with curiosity. He pauses, waiting for Clint to answer.

 

Clint blinks down at Bucky for a moment before a grin breaking across his face. “Green, I mean yes!”

 

“Good,” Bucky answers with his own smile, picking up one of the purple coils of rope. He stands up fluidly, moving behind the chair as he trails the ends of the rope across Clint’s bare chest as he goes, causing Clint to shiver. Bucky leans down, nuzzling against the skin just below Clint’s ear, “Ready?”

 

“Bucky,” Clint groans, “I’m going to die of old age before you start tying me up.”

 

“With that attitude? You better believe I’m going to take my time, sweetheart,” Bucky nips at the junction between Clint’s shoulder and neck in retaliation of Clint’s sass. “You want to be rewarded, you hafta be good.”

 

Clint huffs, quietly muttering “Demanding,” under his breath as he shifts in the chair seeking more of Bucky’s touch. Bucky mouths soft kisses over Clint’s freshly marked skin, flesh hand sliding across Clint’s chest, fingers finding his nipple and rolling it between them causing Clint’s breath to hitch and stutter before Bucky removes his touch completely as he straightens himself out.

 

Clint whines softly but Bucky shushes him, sliding his hand across Clint’s shoulder briefly before he gets to work with the rope.  

 

\--x--

 

Bucky steps back, eyeing his handiwork now that he’s secured the last bit of rope behind the chair. He walks around Clint, tugging gently on the ropes to make sure they are secure but not too tight. Both Clint’s arms are bound to the chair with the black rope, which is wrapped from wrist to mid-forearm like gauntlets before looping around his waist and securing him to the back of the chair.  The purple rope makes a vertical loop around Clint’s biceps and upper chest as well as another loop closer to his elbows and just below his pecs. The rope was then wrapped around itself between Clint’s arms and body at each vertical point to clinch it tighter together, keeping Clint’s arms secured to his body and his body to the chair before the purple rope comes over his right shoulder, being woven through each vertical strap until it was knotted at the black rope and then brought back up over his left shoulder, forming a V.

 

“What’s your color, Clint?” Bucky asks, tilting Clint’s chin up with a finger so he can look him in the eyes.

 

“Green,” Clint smiles dopily, flexing his fingers as he adjusts himself within the confines of the ropes.

 

“Feels comfortable?” Bucky moves back, eyeing his design critically.

 

Clint smiles again, stretching out his legs and rolling his shoulders before answering. “Very much actually.”

 

Bucky hums and smiles to himself, his eyes sweeping over Clint’s body. It hasn’t escaped his notice that all the light touches he made throughout this process has left at least one part of Clint more awake than others, the evidence tenting the front of his boxer briefs. Bucky grasps Clint’s chin in his hand,  leaning down possessively and takes Clint’s mouth in a biting kiss, all heat and want. Clint pushes himself against the ropes in an effort to press himself against Bucky, whining quietly as he realizes just how little he can move being bound to the chair. Bucky breaks the kiss, grinning down at Clint wolfishly, “There will be plenty of time for that.” Bucky straightens himself up, giving Clint a cheeky wink as turns to go into the kitchen.

 

“What the hell Buck?” Clint glares from the chair.

 

“Coffee break, sweetheart.”  Bucky smiles innocently, pouring himself a cup from the waiting coffee pot. He glances at the clock, noting that it’s been roughly half an hour since he started the pot brewing and the process of roping Clint to the chair. On any normal day, Clint would have been hovering at the counter, murmuring sweet nothings at the coffee maker as it percolated quietly, but Bucky had managed to thoroughly distract him as planned.

 

Bucky makes a show of taking the coffee mug in both his hands and inhaling the steam from the cup, closing his eyes and humming in enjoyment loudly before taking a savouring sip. Clint groans loudly, a good indication that he’s realizing been awake and without coffee a lot longer than usual. Bucky opens his eyes slowly, licking his lips delicately as he looks over at Clint.   Clint’s head is tipped back in frustration, the early morning sunlight is starting to creep through the window, washing Clint in pale light where it reaches his skin. It highlights the curves and lines of his shoulder and bicep, muscles more defined against the lines of the rope and Bucky wants. He wants lick, bite and kiss every part of those shoulders and arms, mark them as his in the most enjoyable way he can think of. He wants to hear every noise Clint will make, wants every whimper committed to memory. Bucky watches as Clint’s fingers grip the arms of the chair as he shifts, images of everything those fingers can do, and will do, racing through his mind. He is lost in a sea of Clint, not realizing how long he’s been staring until Clint clears his throat, glaring daggers at the predicament Bucky has put him in.

 

Bucky takes another sip of coffee, using it to settle his own rush of desire before wandering back to Clint at a relaxed pace, watching as Clint fidgets under his gaze. Bucky circles him slowly, fingers trailing across Clint’s shoulders and back, bringing the smell of coffee with him. Clint’s head swivels following Bucky movements as he breaths in the smell of coffee deeply, as if the smell alone will sustain him.

 

“Fuck Clint, you look heavenly, all tied up and at my mercy,” Bucky states simply as he comes around to face Clint again. Clint’s body shivers visibly at Bucky’s words, his boxer briefs growing tighter with Bucky’s attention. Clint’s still glaring, cheeks turning crimson as his eyes move between Bucky’s face and the cup of coffee he holds in his hand. “Something you want, love?”

 

Several things flash over Clint’s face in rapid succession and Bucky can tell he’s fighting to decide what he wants first. Bucky leans down ghosting his mouth against Clint’s jaw, bringing the smell of coffee closer. Clint growls, hands flexing in their trapped position. Bucky nuzzles at the spot under Clint’s ear, nipping softly. “Cat got your tongue? Use your words, Clint.”

 

Bucky kneels down, placing the coffee cup on the floor a safe distance away and then smooths his hands over Clint’s thighs and down to his calves, savoring the feeling of the hard muscles beneath his touch. He knows he’s riding the edge of ‘it’s too goddamn early for this shit without coffee’ and ‘I really like when you take control’, especially if Clint is no longer willing to be a brat about things. Bucky continues to trace his hands over Clint’s legs soothingly as he weighs his options, watching Clint closely as he relaxes into Bucky’s touch and closes his eyes. Bucky’s hands continue their exploration, drifting up the inside of of Clint’s thighs, nails scratching roughly against sensitive skin, purposely drawing out noises from Clint.  

 

Bucky follows his fingers with his mouth, hypnotized by the feeling of Clint’s skin against his own. He starts nibbling and sucking small marks following the same path as his fingers have gone, drawing out more delicious noises as Clint strains against the ropes. Bucky grins against Clint’s upper thigh as he slips his fingers under the material of Clint’s boxer briefs teasingly, drawing his fingers out and then pushing them farther into the warmth under the material. Clint whines, hips canting to Bucky’s touch in a silent plea for more friction against his increasingly hard cock. Bucky considers obliging, he really does, but instead he brushes his lips gently, almost barely there against the Clint’s length before pulling away. Bucky sits back, trying to hold in his grin at the outraged squawk Clint makes, eyes snapping open as Bucky picks up the coffee mug again.

 

“Color?” Bucky asks softly, leaning up into Clint’s space while taking a sip from the cup smugly.

 

Clint’s eyes narrow into a glare. “Green,” he chokes out.  

 

Bucky moves in closer, mouthing along Clint’s jaw and then brushing his lips lightly along Clint’s, avoiding Clint’s attempt of a kiss. Clint whines, trying to capture Bucky’s mouth again and Bucky lets him, tongue licking into Clint’s mouth. Clint groans, the taste of coffee and Bucky in his mouth and his own tongue moving to meet Bucky’s. A frustrated whine builds at the back of Clint’s throat, hands twitching in the ropes with the want to touch. Bucky breaks the kiss, taking a very deliberate slip of coffee while quirking his eyebrow at Clint.

 

“Bucky, you’re driving me crazy,” Clint whines trying to do his best impression of a pout.

 

“That was the plan,” Bucky winks at Clint, finishing the cup of coffee and standing up with deadly grace. He slowly licks his lips, eyes raking over Clint’s body as he backs away heading back into the kitchen to pour another cup of coffee.

 

“Bucky! I will get myself out of this chair if I have to,” Clint growls, “and then you’ll be sorry.”

 

Bucky smirks at the threat, pouring the new cup of coffee, “Stop being dramatic.”

 

“I’m not being dramatic!”

 

Bucky hums in mock agreeance, leaning his hip against the counter, “You sure about that, darling?”

 

“I could get out of this if I wanted,” Clint replies, somehow managing to growl and whine at the same time.

 

“I have no doubt in your abilities, Clint,” Bucky bites his lower, before breaking into a breathtaking smile, “How about you tell me what you need.”

 

“Jesus Christ, what I need? How about you stop teasing and come over here and fuck me?”

 

“I’ll take that into consideration, anything else?”

 

“Oh for -, Bucky will you do something more than just look at me?”

 

“Come on, Clint, you can ask nicer than that,” Bucky takes a long sip from the coffee cup and grins.

 

“Bucky!”

 

“Yes, Clint?”

 

“Get your perfect ass over here!”

 

“That’s not asking nicely.”

 

Clint growls, shooting Bucky a look that could kill - Bucky can’t help but wonder how much he would enjoy it. It stirs up a swooping feeling low in his stomach that is somehow familiar and alien in his body all at once. They’ve been doing this for awhile, Bucky staying over at Clint’s more often than not and somehow, just maybe, it was turning into something more than just sex and a little bondage. Bucky blinks away the thought, sauntering back towards Clint.

 

“You’re getting kinda grumpy, maybe some coffee is in order?”

 

Clint sputters, his usual quips static in his brain because every once of his resolve is too busy watching the way Bucky moves back to him. “Fine,” Clint bites out, tipping his chin as Bucky brings the cup up to his lips. Clint close his eyes, swallowing greedily at the coffee as it meets his lips, not wanting to admit that Bucky was right. Bucky smiles, sliding his hand along Clint’s jaw, watching the way his throat moves as he swallows the coffee and can’t help but think of other ways he’d like to use Clint’s mouth.  

 

Clint meets his eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust, coffee spilling down his chin from the corners of his mouth as he finishes the cup. Bucky moves the cup away, gaze following the droplets down Clint’s neck and chest with rapt attention. The silence is heavy in the room, only broken by Clint’s heavy breaths.  Without warning, Bucky tosses the coffee mug, Clint’s eyes following its arc in the air and watching it shatter against the floor. Before he can say anything, Bucky is on his knees, warm tongue lapping up the droplets of coffee on his skin, one hand braced on Clint’s thigh for balance and the other trailing up his arm. Goosebumps flush across Clint’s skin, the contrast between Bucky’s hot tongue and the cold of his metal fingers trailing up Clint’s arm setting his nerves on fire.  Clint groans, pushing against the bonds of the rope, wishing that he could get his hands on Bucky. Bucky’s mouth is trailing kisses across Clint’s chest, still following the coffee droplets back to their origin, his hand moving to Clint’s shoulder and into his hair pulling lightly. Bucky buries face against Clint’s neck, letting out a small huff of breath against Clint’s skin, trying to regain some of his composure.

 

“Bu- Bucky, was that my favorite mug?” Clint pants. Between the ropes and Bucky, Clint is securely pinned to the chair. The three points of contact between their two bodies isn’t enough and Clint desperately needs more of Bucky pressed against him.  

 

Bucky growls, the sound muffled against Clint’s skin. Bucky lifts his head, fingers gripping the back of Clint’s neck. “No,” he grits out, the urge to cut Clint out of the ropes suddenly running frantically through his body.  

 

Desire is plainly written across Clint’s face, pupils blown wide and cheeks flushed.  Bucky briefly wonders if his own is so obvious as his eyes take in the man before him, committing him to memory.

 

“Jesus Buck, you look like you could eat me alive,” Clint’s voice is low and gravelly, answering Bucky’s silent musing.

 

The grin that Bucky gives Clint is feral and sharklike, the hand on Clint’s thigh moving to stroke his hard cock through the material of his briefs. “Sweetheart, you have no idea.” Bucky releases the back of Clint’s neck, both hands going to the waistband of the briefs and tugging softly. Clint’s brain stutters as he blinks at Bucky for a moment, Bucky quirking an eyebrow while he waits for Clint’s brain to catch up.

 

“Oh,” Clint says weakly, lifting his hips up as Bucky pulls the briefs down over them, shifting out of the way so he can pull them right off, tossing them somewhere behind him. Bucky quickly settles himself between Clint’s legs against, pulling at Clint’s thighs to bring his ass closer to the edge of the seat of the chair. Clint squawks, not expecting the manhandling before it quickly turns into a moan, Bucky swallowing his cock down in one fluid motion.

 

Bucky is lost in the sensation of Clint’s cock in his mouth - the saltiness of precome on his tongue as he takes more of Clint in, the earthy smell of him as Clint fills his throat. Bucky swallows around him, savoring everything about this moment. Bucky pulls back, hollowing his cheeks as he moves, wrapping his hand around the base of Clint’s cock as a string of curses hits the air as he does. Clint pants above him, hips moving up to meet his mouth as he takes Clint’s cock back down. Bucky lets Clint control the pace, matching the movement of his mouth to the pace of Clint’s hips, his free hand idly tracing patterns against Clint’s thigh. Clint’s curses turn into whimpers and moans as his pace picks up and Bucky uses his free hand to force Clint’s movements to stop, making an obscene popping noise as he pulls his mouth off of Clint’s cock. Bucky keeps stroking with his hand at a slower pace, smirking up at Clint as he whines, looking down at him with glassy eyes.

 

“Bu-cky,” Clint pants, trying to move his hips and increase the pace again. “Bu- please,” he whines, “I just, I want to touch you, this is all I have and I’m tied to this fucking chair. I need you,” Clint’s voice breaks, Clint looks absolutely wrecked, chest heaving as he hiccups a small sob.

 

Bucky adjusts, hand still stroking Clint’s cock as he takes his cheek in his other hand. The angle is awkward, a little messy but Clint needs more than one point of contact and Bucky would never deny him that.

 

“Shhh, I gotcha,” Bucky soothes, mouth meeting Clint’s in a tender kiss. Clint kisses back, tongue sliding into Bucky’s mouth desperately as his hips rock into Bucky’s hand. Bucky slides his hand from Clint’s cheek to the back of Clint’s neck, breaking the kiss but pressing his forehead against Clint’s. “I’m right here Clint, not going anywhere, love.”

 

Clint whimpers, breathing shakily as a tear slides down his cheek. His hip stutter, moving in short thrusts and Clint moans as he comes over his own stomach, chest and Bucky’s hand. Bucky continues to stroke him through it, squeezing Clint’s cock softly as he milks every last bit out of him, whispering softly to Clint, “I got you, I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Bucky pulls back, looking Clint over as he wipes his hand off on his own jeans.  A couple more tears have slipped down Clint’s cheeks as he takes hiccuping breaths, his orgasm having punched the air out of him. Bucky takes Clint’s face between his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs and kissing softly over their trails as Clint breaths start to calm. Clint shudders, taking a deep breath and then letting it go. Bucky pulls back, looking into Clint’s bright blue eyes. “Hey,” Bucky says softly. “How are you doing?”

 

“That was really intense,” Clint’s voice comes out thick, emotions flickering across his face.

 

“Let’s get you cleaned up and out of these ropes, okay?” Bucky tips Clint’s face up to his own and kisses him tenderly.

 

Clint nods, breaking the kiss. “Yes, please.” Clint sags against the ropes.

 

Bucky pulls off his t-shirt, using it to carefully clean Clint up before pulling one of his knives from his jeans. Clint blinks at him, eyes going wide.

 

“It’ll take too long to untie the rope,” Bucky explains simply, the desire to take care of Clint _now_ superseding anything else. Clint nods, understanding everything left unsaid. Bucky carefully cuts through the ropes along Clint’s torso first, fingers running over the pattern the rope has left.  When he’s done Clint’s torso, he put the knife away and kneels in front of Clint, carefully unraveling the ropes that bind Clint to the chair arms. The minute both arms are free, Clint slides from the chair into Bucky’s lap, pressing his trembling body fully against Bucky and wrapping his arms tightly around Bucky’s neck. Bucky wraps his own arms around Clint possessively, one going from rib to shoulder and the other cupping his ass and keeping him flush against him as he settles back sitting on his own heels and ankles.

 

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky asks quietly, squeezing Clint tightly.

 

“Yeah.” Clint’s voice is shaky as well. “I just needed to feel you,” Clint squeezes back, not making any indication that he’s going to let go anytime soon as he nuzzles his face against Bucky’s neck.

 

Bucky just holds him, smoothing his hand across Clint’s spine calmly. This is the first time anything like this has ever happened and Bucky isn’t sure how much he should think about it. It touches so close to something he’s been avoiding looking at in himself, something he doesn’t want to touch because not hoping for something is better than rejection. He feels when Clint’s body stops shaking, his grip on Bucky loosening incrementally as he starts to relax.

 

“How about we get some food and water into you and then take a shower together?” Bucky asks, feeling a huff of air against his neck.

 

“I’m comfy right here,” Clint whines softly, voice muffled against Bucky’s skin.

 

“We have cold pizza, and after the shower we can go back to bed,” Bucky bribes, smiling to himself.

 

Clint pulls away a fraction so he can look at Bucky, rolling his eyes, “Fi-ne,” but makes no effort to move beyond that.

 

“You’re going to make me carry you to the kitchen, aren’t you?” Bucky shakes his head in mock disbelief.

 

“I’m starving Bucky, you woke me up _so_ early,” Clint blinks at him, trying to look innocent.

 

Bucky rolls his own eyes, smiling softly at Clint as he tightens his arms around him. He swears Clint takes advantage of him being a supersoldier whenever he can. Bucky shifts, moving both hands under Clint’s thighs before he moves to kneeling. Clint clings to him and can’t help the small giggle that escapes his throat as Bucky stands up. Bucky says nothing but smirks at Clint as he flushes in embarassment as Bucky moves into the kitchen and deposits him on the kitchen counter.

 

Bucky moves around the kitchen gracefully, grabbing a glass and filling it with water before bringing it back to Clint. Every movement is full of purpose, every time he’s near Clint he makes sure to touch him, reminding Clint that he’s still there. Bucky can do this, filling an in-the-moment need - it doesn’t have to be something more right? This is how it all started anyway, him and Clint needing to burn off the post mission adrenaline rush. They already worked so well together, it’s not surprising they would fall into bed with each other.

 

Bucky moves to the fridge grabbing the pizza box as Clint hums behind him, drinking his water and swinging his feet. It strikes Bucky as something painfully domestic and his heart squeezes in his chest as he brings the pizza box to Clint, opening it and presenting the pizza to Clint like they’re in some fancy restaurant. Bucky blinks, trying to focus on Clint instead of the jumble of everything in his his head, smiling as Clint takes two slices of pizza, presses them together crust out and starts eating them like a sandwich. Bucky watches him quietly, Clint sighing happily and doing a little wiggle on the counter like somehow he’s part dog.

 

“Do you want more?”  Bucky shakes the box, bringing Clint’s attention from his pizza sandwich back to the box.

 

“Nah Buck, this is good,” he smiles brightly, taking a giant bite while making nomming noises.

 

Bucky busies himself putting the pizza box away and refilling his water glass as Clint eats. All the energy he was feeling before is slowly draining out of him and the desire just crawl into bed and stay there is quickly trying to overtake Bucky’s brain.

 

Clint stuffs the last bit of crust in his mouth, “Shwowr time!” he tries to say around the crust, fist punching the air excitedly.  

 

‘ _Christ I’m in love with a child_.’ The thought enters Bucky’s head suddenly and he stops in place, eyes wide at the revelation.

 

“Hey Buck, you okay?” Clint asks with concern, noticing the wide eyed pause Bucky has taken in the middle of the kitchen.

 

Bucky blinks, forcing a smile, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

“Fine? Really?” Clint hops off of the counter, coming to stand in front of Bucky and eying him critically.

 

“I’m great, how about that shower?” Bucky deflects, taking Clint by the arm and starting to walk to the bathroom, ignoring the frown on Clint’s face.

 

Once in the bathroom Bucky pushes Clint towards the shower, motioning for him to start the water while Bucky makes himself busy with striping himself out of his jeans and underwear.  He glances at himself in the mirror, confirming that he has his face back under control but his shoulders are tense and up near his ears. Bucky focuses on the sound of the water starting in the shower, taking a deep breath to try calm himself before having to face Clint again when he feels warm hands slide across his ribs.

 

Clint turns him, crowding into his space and trapping him against the sink.  “Fine, huh?”

 

The concern is back on Clint’s face and Bucky’s not sure if it’s the humidity in the air or something else but he’s finding it hard to breath. Everything feels like it’s spinning as he grips his hands tightly against the counter behind him, knees starting to feel a little weak.

 

“Woah Buck, c’mere,” Clint wraps his arms around Bucky, pressing his body fully against Bucky’s to hold him in place. “Talk to me, Barnes, what’s going on? And don’t you dare tell me you’re fine.”

 

Bucky takes a shuddering breath, pressing his forehead against Clint’s shoulder.

 

“Just tired Barton, I’m fine,” the words come out of his mouth without even thinking. His answer is met with Clint pinching his side.

 

“Hey! Ow,” Bucky grumbles.

 

“What did I say? Fine is not an answer,” Clint wraps his arms back around Bucky tightly, squeezing.

 

“That pinch is going to leave bruises, you asshole,” Bucky pulls his head up and away enough to glare at Clint.

 

“You’ll heal. Get over it and tell me what’s going on,” Clint is not having any of Bucky’s bullshit and if it was any other time Bucky is sure that the commanding look Clint is giving him would have him rock hard.

 

“I’m probably just hungry, I sh-”

 

“Excuse,” Clint cuts Bucky off. Bucky’s glare intensifies. “Listen Barnes, the murder glare is not going to work on me, so fucking spill it.” Clint punctuates his point with another pinch placed exactly where the first one had landed.  Bucky flinches and growls at Clint.

 

Clint raises his eyebrow expectantly at Bucky, waiting for a response. They stand in silence for what seems like an eternity, still pressed together against the bathroom sink as the steam builds up around them.

 

“Jesus fuck, fine!” Bucky lets out an exasperated breath.  “I think you could out stubborn Steve and that’s fucking saying something.”

 

“Damn right I can, you better remember it too,” Clint narrows his eyes at Bucky, waiting for the deflection again.

 

Bucky takes a couple fortifying breathes, how exactly was he going to explain this? Could he lie by omission? Somehow along the way Clint had learned how to read Bucky and he would like to pretend that he was uncomfortable with this development but it just settles the feeling of love more deeply in his chest.  

 

Bucky considers Clint, things could go horribly wrong but he’ll never know if he doesn’t take a chance.

 

“IthinkI’minlovewithyou,” Bucky lets the words out in a rush of breath, not wanting to chicken out if he thinks about it anymore.

 

Clint blinks at him confused, tilting his heads and tapping his finger against his hearing like it’s bugging out. “Sorry, what?”

 

Bucky shakes his head, running a hand over his face while trying to calm his nerves so he can say it again more slowly. “What I said,” Bucky pauses taking another breath. “Clint, I think I love you.” Bucky looks down, cheeks flushing bright red with the sound of Clint’s breath hitching in his throat. He doesn’t want to see the rejection in Clint eyes.

 

Warm fingers tilt Bucky’s face up, then slide along his jaw but Bucky keeps his eyes downcast.

 

“Bucky, look at me,” Clint voice has a slight tremble in it. Bucky glances up, sure he’s going to see disappointment and disgust in Clint’s eyes but what he finds are bright blue pools of hope looking back at him. “Do you mean it?” Clint asks, the tremble in his voice more pronounced this time, his eyes searching Bucky’s face looking for the confirmation he desperately needs.

 

“Yes,” Bucky whispers, nodding. Clint’s eyes focus on Bucky’s mouth, not fully hearing his words but reading them from his lips and Clint breaks into the most heart warming smile.  

 

Both of Clint’s hands bracket Bucky’s face, tilting his head up as Clint’s mouth slots over his. Bucky’s not sure if he’s ever felt so much emotion in one kiss, but it feels like Clint is pouring every once of himself into this, his body pressed firmly against Bucky’s like the need to be close is the only thing keeping him alive. Bucky’s hands move to grip Clint’s waist, holding on for dear life as he’s swept away with sheer amount of relief and love he feels in this moment.  

 

They both break away from the kiss, panting and looking at each other in stunned silence. Clint breaks into a goofy grin, the warmth of it feeling like sunshine against Bucky’s skin. Clint slides his hand down Bucky’s arms, tangling his fingers with Bucky’s.  

 

“You beat me to it, I’ve been trying to tell you I love you for weeks,” Clint ducks his head, looking coy as his cheeks turn red.

 

“Oh?” Bucky smiles shyly, trying to think of when.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Clint scratches the back of his neck.  “Last week when we were watching movies on the couch, I was going to say something but then I choked on some popcorn.” Somehow Clint’s face manages to turn even more red than it was before.  “And, the morning I was going to make you breakfast in bed but I burnt half the french toast and you ended up taking over the cooking. I uhh, I tried to make a heart with powdered sugar after that but it didn’t look right.”

 

Clint glances up at Bucky, biting his bottom lip. “I’m not very good at this,” he admits weakly.

 

Bucky pulls Clint close and kissing him softly, “Neither am I, it’s been about seventy years so I’m a little rusty.” Bucky purposely shrugs his metal shoulder with a wink.

 

“God, Buck that’s a horrible joke!” Clint frowns briefly before tilting his head back in a bark of laughter.

 

“Barton special, just for you,” Bucky smiles at Clint, hand shifting down to give Clint’s ass cheek a squeeze, the seriousness of the moment now passed.

 

“Hey! That’s my ass,” Clint squeaks.

 

“I’d like to consider it mine now, thanks,” Bucky grins, giving Clint’s ass a quick spank.

 

“Oh yeah? Tell a guy you love him once and he thinks he owns ya, huh?” Clint gives Bucky a playful shove.

 

“Is that a problem?” Bucky slides his hands up Clint’s slides, tilting his head with the question.

 

“Not one bit,” Clint grins again, catching Bucky’s mouth in a quick kiss before starting to pull away.  “How about you turn off the shower and we go back to bed? I can think of a couple more things I’d like to do before we get cleaned up,” Clint sweeps his eyes down Bucky’s body like he could eat him right there and then before smirks and takes off. “Meet you there!”

 

Bucky sighs happily, shaking his head. How did this become his life?

 

\--x--

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to candycanedarcy for being beta on this and he Bad Decision Buddies discord for the endless sprints to get this done!


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